by Tim Flanagan
They worked together once again, dismantling the security panel and hooking it up to their portable power supply. The door unlocked, but, unlike the entrance door, this one wasn't on a powered hinge, so Tracker easily pushed it open. The office didn't look like it had been touched since Steven was last there. Steven dropped his hold-all on the floor, walked over to his cubicle and sat down at the desk. It was exactly the same as when he had left. Behind him was a notice board with scraps of paper pinned to it, half hiding an old yellow cutting from a newspaper. Steven swung the chair round and gently removed the cutting from the board, being careful not to tear the edges as he pulled out the pins. He then folded it along the soft and already well used creases and placed it between two pages of his notepad that was still on the desk. He then flicked through the notepad towards the front. On the page were two words scribbled hastily; ANILE, then directly beneath it the word ALIEN.
'This is the name of Coldred's research facility,' Steven told Tracker, showing him the notepad. 'I thought it was a hoax so didn't think anything of it. ANILE is an anagram of ALIEN.' He placed the notepad into his jacket pocket.
'So how can we find out its location?' asked Tracker. 'We probably have enough power in this car battery to run your computer.'
'We might, but there will be no power to run the internet servers in the building and access the web.'
'Wouldn't there be back up generators?'
'Yes, but if the power has been down since the creatures attacked, the generators would probably have drained by now.'
'Do you have a paper copy of an MI6 database or directory?' asked Tracker.
'No, we've got something better than that.' Steven smiled, stood up and went round to one of the other cubicles.
'Jake, my colleague, ran an unofficial blog on conspiracy theories. This is his desk, and this,' he held a thick orange book in the air. 'This, is the bible of all conspiracy books. Everything from human experimentation at Porton Downs to Barack Obama's fake birth certificate.'
'So what shall we look up?' said Tracker.
Steven thumbed to the back of the well used book and ran his finger down the list of entries in the index. 'We could start at Biomedical Research,' he replied.
He flicked forward to another page that had the heading he was looking for in large lettering. Together they scanned down the summary of information in that section until they reached a piece that mentioned research facilities in Britain.
Biomedical Research (Also known as Experimental Medicine)
Ethiopian Medical Experiments (Full article on page 242)
A US Navy Biomedical field research laboratory in the capital Addis Ababa, codenamed NAMRU-7 has been labelled by Ethiopians as the Pentagons unit for killing their people with pathogens that could alter their genes and cause deformities. The unit is allegedly conducting experiments on children and using the data to design harmful food and drugs that can then be sold cheaply or supplied to hostile countries. The drugs are currently being developed in research facilities in America and Britain.
'Take a look at that article,' advised Tracker.
Steven slid several pages over until he reached the expanded article. They skimmed through.
'Research facilities in Salisbury, Wiltshire as well as Sevenoaks in Kent, have been requested, in the name of mutual defence interests for US and UK citizens, to develop various chemical and biological programs.'
Steven skimmed down the page some more until he came across another sentence that interested him. 'In 2010, Fort Halstead in Sevenoaks, was divided into several units and is now believed to be funded by private organisations that supply the US and UK governments with chemical weapons under license. How they obtain these chemical weapons is subject to a lot of discussion and denial from both governments, but there are numerous leaked reports of human experimentation within the compound. One unit, called ANILE or ALIEN by many theorists, is staffed by American Military personnel and has been linked to alien autopsies from landing sights on British soil. In 2012, the unit denied their involvement in the development of a new variation of Anthrax that had reportedly been extracted from the preserved alien body collected from the Berwyn Mountain alien crash site in 1974.'
'What do you think we might find at Fort Halstead?' asked Tracker.
Before Steven could answer they were interrupted by another rumble of thunder from outside. They could still hear the sound of rain drumming against the window pane, but there was now something else. Something that shouldn’t have been in the building. A chirping sound had now erupted from somewhere close by, like birds communicating to one another excitedly on the branches of a tree. Neither Steven nor Tracker could quite work out what it was they were listening to. But, then there was a familiar sound, that both of them instantly recognised. Echoing from within the elevator shaft was a high pitched scream. From the hollow tube that connected each floor of the building to the next, a chorus of screams and calls replied.
From where he was sitting, Steven strained his neck so that he could see across the room and directly through the window in the office security door to the corridor outside. Further down the corridor where a gap in the wall would have opened into the elevator, he could see hundreds of black shadows clawing their way out. Clinging to the walls and ceiling, they quickly swamped the corridor like a swarm of ants and were heading towards the partially open door to the UFA.
26. The Canteen
'Looks like we're back on the menu,' said Tracker.
'The storm must have blocked the sun enough for them to come out,' replied Steven quickly running towards the security door and pushing it shut with all his body weight behind it. As he leant against the metal door the mechanised bolts clicked into place and he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing there was a strong barrier between them and the creatures. Nervously he stood up straight to see through the reinforced glass window at the top of the door. On the other side, pressed up against the glass, hungry mouths attempted to bite at the smooth surface, while hooked fingers clawed at any ridge or groove they could work them into. It seemed like every part of the corridor had been swallowed up by countless black bodies, scrabbling against each other and fighting for position. A nest of creatures had exploded into life and if this corridor was anything to go by, they could expect hundreds more creatures elsewhere in the building.
'How long will the door hold them back?' asked Tracker as he began dragging a desk from one of the cubicles to help barricade the door.
'This is a solid reinforced steel door. It will probably stop them getting in for quite some time.'
'Probably?' asked Tracker with some hesitation in his voice.
'Don't forget they can release acid which weakens metal. Given enough time, they will be able to dissolve enough of the metal in this frame to make the door come away.'
'How long do you think that might take?'
'I don't know, but we would probably die from the acidic fumes that would seep in here before then.'
'That’s what the yellow fog was in the entrance,' said Tracker thinking back to the harsh fumes they had inhaled downstairs.
Steven nodded.
'Then we need to find a way out,' Tracker added as they listened to claws desperately scratching against the door.
'The entrance to every department has a reinforced door that can only be accessed electronically, like this one. We don’t have enough time to wire every single one to the battery. Besides, my card doesn’t have clearance to all departments so we would be limited anyway. However, all internal doors and service doors have non-electronic push button locks. That would be the quickest way to move around the building.'
'Let's go then,' instructed Tracker.
They picked up their hold-alls, moved to the other side of the office and went down a short corridor. On one side was an office that had belonged to Sir Adam, Steven's Commander, whilst on the other was a room that had become part of the ever expanding home for the redundant files of hoaxes that had been accumulated over t
he years. At the end of the corridor was a service door. Steven knew that this led to an internal network of rooms and corridors that linked all the support services, including the typists, secretaries, archive assistants, catering and cleaning staff, to each department. It would provide Steven and Tracker a way out without attracting any more attention from the creatures.
At the service door they both cautiously listened for any sign of movement in the corridor beyond as they could only see the section of wall immediately opposite the door.
Quietly, Steven pushed a code into the door lock then twisted the metal knob round. Easing the door open slightly, he peered through the gap and checked the corridor.
There was nothing there.
They both slipped the hold-alls over their shoulders so their hands were free to use their weapons if needed.
Steven and Tracker ran to the next junction. In the service corridor the walls were bare and the floor polished concrete, easier to push a food trolley along than carpet, but noisier beneath the rubber soles of their shoes. Every foot step created a squeak in the empty corridor that seemed louder than it really was. They both decided to remove their shoes. After stuffing them into the bags they concentrated on the next door. Following the same procedure, they now entered a narrow set of stairs that wound round in circles above them, as well as below. Tracker stretched his neck to see if there were any creatures above, but all he could see was a glass panelled ceiling another three floors up that projected light down the shaft. Steven began silently moving down, his soft socks making no noise against the metal staircase. As they descended, the temperature of the air seemed to get colder. They passed several other doors, pausing at each one to check there were no creatures, before continuing down.
'I thought we were on the seventh floor?' Tracker whispered to Steven. He had been counting the number of floors they passed as they continued to move down.
'We were,' replied Steven. 'But, if we leave the building via the atrium, we might encounter more creatures. The lift shaft joins the atrium to the rest of the building. We're going lower.'
The temperature of the air continued to drop and Tracker became aware of a slightly damp smell.
Finally, the staircase ended.
Steven went to the door and cautiously began looking through the window once more to check everything was clear. Beyond the door he could just about see the outline of rows of stainless steel and glass tabletops, glimpses of chairs tucked beneath tables or toppled on the floor. At one end of the room was a long glass domed unit that reminded Steven of the school cafeteria when he was a boy. Tracker peered over Steven's shoulder. It looked like he had brought them down to the service canteen and from the dampness in the walls around the staircase, they were probably level or even lower than the Thames.
Steven pushed the buttons in once again and slid the lock across.
They moved into the canteen. There were no lights on and no windows to let the limited daylight in so they moved along the side of one of the tables very carefully. The area nearest to the staircase soaked up the limited light that came through the door window, but as they moved further away from it, they moved in relative blindness, only picking out the reflections on the edges of the shiny units. Although Steven had known there was a service canteen in the building, he had never actually been there before. If they could reach the other side of the room, they were bound to come across another door that should take them through the kitchens and out to a delivery bay.
There was silence in the room, just the repetitive thud of a drip falling onto metal somewhere in the room. Both men took cautious steps across the room, eyes straining to see where they were walking. The further they walked, the more they moved into darkness, until they began tripping and stubbing their toes on overturned chairs.
'Wait,' whispered Tracker. 'We can't go on without some light.' He placed his bag on the floor and began moving his hand around inside, aimlessly trying to feel for the flashlight he had packed.
Steven stood on the spot waiting for light before moving on.
He felt uncomfortable.
The cold metal surfaces of the canteen bounced every sound in the room off in a peculiar way. To his ears, his breathing sounded louder than normal, and the drip continued again and again.
'Here it is,' said Tracker, turning on the light. It illuminated his bag and the contents that he had taken out in order to find it. He began placing everything back in, then zipped it together.
Steven took a look around the room. There were shiny metal surfaces everywhere he looked, but all they seemed to reflect was darkness.
And the drip….
He realised that the dripping had stopped.
Steven quickly began searching the room with his eyes, looking for a leaking tap or pool of water, but saw none. The light from Tracker's flashlight cast an expanded light around the huge room and from the corner of his eye he saw a reflection that terrified him.
Steven slowly looked up towards the ceiling.
Hanging above them were hundreds of creatures, gripping onto the ceiling tiles by their hooked feet and wrapped in the black stretched skin of their wings. They seemed to be sleeping or hibernating.
Steven took a sharp intake of breath, fear clamped his feet to the ground as every muscle in his body contracted with terror. Although the temperature had dropped as they descended the staircase, the smell of damp had increased. But, it wasn’t damp from the Thames, it was decay from the creatures that hung from above.
Tracker automatically followed Steven's gaze.
As soon as he saw the creatures he cupped his hand over the lens of the flashlight, plunging them into semi-darkness. An orange glow filled the room as the light shone through the skin of Tracker's hand.
The breathing in the room continued. Rasping phlegm rattled through the breathing holes that punctuated the bodies of the creatures.
Forcefully gaining control of his body, Steven signalled to Tracker that they should keep moving through the canteen to the next room. The glow from the torch made it easier to see where they were going. They managed to avoid tripping over any more chairs until they reached the opposite side of the room and the door that would lead them through to the kitchen.
Another rumble of thunder came from somewhere outside the building. A few of the creatures released a playful chirping sound whilst they slept, but the light from the torch as well as the thunder was beginning to disturb some of the creatures.
27. Leaving Work for the Last Time
Steven quickly began punching the code into the keypad just as a creature released itself from the ceiling and landed on top of one of the metal tables. The force created as it landed caused the surface to buckle slightly leaving pointed indentations where the claws from the feet bit into the metal. The hollow bang woke up some of the other creatures in the room. Steven fumbled with the code unit, whilst Tracker prepared his shotgun for firing. The creature blinked a transparent inner lid over the surface of its eye as it cleared its vision and focussed on the two humans in front of it.
Steven turned the knob of the door as the creature began to advance towards them. Together they lurched through the door and pushed it closed as the creature hopped along the table and perched itself on the edge ready to pounce.
It watched them with interest through the glass in the door. The single white eye glowed at them through the darkness, absorbing any light it could to help it see. Other creatures now began dropping from the ceiling, woken from their sleep.
Tracker quickly swung his flashlight round the room they had just entered, checking to see whether they had stepped into yet more danger. The ceiling was clear. They had come through to the kitchen which, as well as having similar stainless steel tables to those in the canteen, also had lots of ovens and gas-powered hobs that stretched along each wall.
'These doors aren't as secure as the security doors, are they?' asked Tracker as he examined the door.
'No, but it should still hold them back long
enough for us to get through to the storeroom. From there we can access the underground car park and get out.'
Tracker began dashing around the room, swinging his torch under the units and cookers, making sure there were no creatures hidden in the room. On the other side of the door they had just come through, the creatures were starting to gather, pushing to look through the glass at their next potential victims. The canteen sounded like a pan of popcorn exploding as more and more creatures dropped from their perch and landed on the metal surfaces.
'I don't understand how the creatures could have got into the service network?' said Steven.
'What about air ducts?' asked Tracker as he shone his light up towards a silver boxed tunnel that stretched all the way across the room then disappeared through the wall.
'The whole building is linked together by a sophisticated air conditioning system that can suck out air, in case of fire or a toxic gas attack, as well as generate cooler air in the summer. Moving within the air ducts is possible.'
Tracker nodded then curiously directed his light towards the other end of the room. He noticed another door at the far end of the kitchen that connected to the canteen serving station. The door looked different. It was slightly ajar in the door frame and apart from two bolts at the top and bottom, there was no visible sign of a keypad. Tracker suddenly realised that it was a swing-door and not locked - the creatures could easily get into the kitchen.